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About Google Book Search Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web at |http : //books . google . com/| *7 HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY Preservation facsimile printed on alkaline/buffered paper and bound by Acme Bookbinding Charlestown, Massachusetts 2005 HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY BOUGHT FROM THE EfCOME OF THE BEQDECT OF H. C. G. VOX JAGEHANN Writings of i/mitt ll5tttf^ ^totoe« UNCLE TOM*S CABIN. Pabular lUustraiid BdUum, zamo, $a.oa Thb Saicb. nbatraUd Bditum* A new edition, from new ]^tet» printed with red-line border. With an Introduction of more than 30 pages, and a bibliography of the wioos editions and languages in which the work nas appeared, by Mr. Gborgb BuLUur, ofthe British Museum. Over too illustrations. 8vo, ^3- 50* Thb Saicb. Popular EdUion, With Introduction, and Por- trait of " Unde Tom.*' lamo, #1.00. DRED (sometimes called " IHna Gordon ^\ lamo, I1.50. THE MINISTER'S WOOING. lamo, lz.50. AGNES OF SORRENTO, xamo, ^x.sa THE PEARL OF ORR'S ISLAND. iamo» $1.50. THE MAY-FLOWER, stc zamo, ^x.sa OLDTOWN FOLKS, zamo, ^i.sa SAM LAWSON'S FIRESIDE STORIES. New and en- laiged Edition. Illustrated. ' zamo, ^z.so. MY WIFE AND L New Edition. Ulustrated. zamo, ^x.so. WE AND OUR NEIGHBORS. New Edition. lUustrated. zamo, $z.5a POGANUC PEOPLE. New Edition. Illustrated zamo, |z. 50. The above eleven zamo volumes, uniform, in box, |z6.oa HOUSE AND HOME PAPERS. z6mo, ^i.sa LITTLE FOXES. z6mo, |z.so. THE CHIMNEY-CORNER. z6mo, >z.5ix A DOG'S MISSION, btc. New Edition. lUnstrated. Small 4to, ^i.as. QUEER LITTLE PEOPLE. New Edition. Illustrated. Small 4to, $1.35. LITTLE PUSSY WILLOW. New Edition. Illustrated. Small 4to, $i.a5. RELIGIOUS POEMS. Illustrated. z6mo, gilt edges, Iz.sa PALMETTO LEAVES. Sketches of Florida. Ulustrated. z6mo, iz.5o* FLOWERS AND FRUIT. From Mrs. Stowb's Writings. i6mo, $z.oa SCENES FROM MRS. STOWE'S WORKS. Paper, zs cents. HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO., Publishers, BOSTON. FLOWERS AND FRUIT FROM THE WRITINGS OF HARRIET BEECHER STOWE C ARRANGED BY ABBIE H. FAIRFIELD BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 1888 Writings of l^iet IBtttljet ^toe« T7NCLB TOM*S CABIN. Popular IlhutraUd BdiH(m, lamo, $a.oa Tm Samb. IU$tstraUd Edititm, A new edition, from new {dates, printed with red-line border. With an Introduction of more than 30 pages, and a bibliography of the various editions and languages in which the work nas appeared, by Mr. Gborgb BuLUur, ofthe British Museum. Over 100 illustrations. 8vo, Tm Samb. Popular Edition, With Introduction, and Por- trait of " Unde Tom.*' lamo, >i.oa DRED (sometimes called " IHna Gordon *\ ismo, I1.50. THE MINISTER'S WOOING. lamo, $1.50. AGNES OF SORRENTO, lamo, ^x.sa THE PEARL OF ORR'S ISLAND, xsmo* lx.50. THE MAY-FLOWER, stc xamo, $x.sa OLDTOWN FOLKS, xamo, ^i-sa SAM LAWSON>S FIRESIDE STORIES. New and en- laiged Edition. Illustrated, xamo, $1.50. MY WIFE AND L New Edition. Illustrated. xamo,|x.5«>. WE AND OUR NEIGHBORS. New Edition. lUustrated. xamo, #x.5a POGANUC PEOPLE. New Edition. Illustrated xamo, |x. 50. The above eleven xamo volumes, uniform, in box, |x6.oa BOUSE AND HOME PAPERS. x6mo, Ix-sa LITTLE FOXES. x6mo, |x.so. THE CHIMNEY-CORNER. x6mo, $x,$x A DOG'S MISSION, btc. New Edition. lUustrated. Small 4to, %t.»i, QUEER LITTLE PEOPLE. New Edition. Illustrated. Small 4to, li.as. LITTLE PUSSY WILLOW. New Edition. Illustrated. SmaU 4t0, $1.2$. RELIGIOUS POEMS. Illustrated. x6mo, gilt edges, $i.sx PALMETTO LEAVES. Sketches of Florida. lUnstrated. x6m0| ^x.5o* FLOWERS AND FRUIT. From Mrs. Stowb's Writings. x6mo, ^z.oa SCENES FROM MRS. STOWE'S WORKS. Paper, x% cents. HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO., Publishers, BOSTON. CONTENTS. i CHAFTEB L Thx IrniBB Li7B 1 CHAFTEB n. HuiLur Natubb 55 CHAPTER m. WOMIN 84 CHAPTER rV. Childbbn 105 CHAPTER V. Education 118 CHAPTER VL Natubb 134 CHAPTER Vn. LiTSRATUBB AND AbT 158 CHAPTER Vm. Nbw England Litb 171 CHAPTER IX. MiSCBLLANBOUB 188 A Oopyrlglit,1888, Bt HOUQHTON, MIFFLIN & 00. MrighUruerved, The RiwrsitU P^eu, Cambridge .• Bleotro«yp6d and Prlntod bj H. 0. Iloagbton ft Oa FLOWEES A1ST> FETJIT. CHAPTER L THE INKER LIFE. THB MINISTBB*8 WOOING^. SjmpaCby. When we feel a thing onrselveSy we can see very quick the same in others. Self- When a finely constitated nature wishes ^"^"^ to go into baseness, it has first to bribe itself. Evil is never embraced, undisguised, as evil, but under some fiction which the mind accepts, and with which it has the singular power of blinding itself in the face of daylight. The power of imposing on one's self is an essential preliminary to imposing on others. The man first argues himself down, and then he is ready to put the whole weight of hb nature to deceiv- ing others. Sooi-oom- Perhaps it is so, that souls once inti- mately related have ever after this a strange power of affecting each odier, — a power that neither absence nor death can annul. How else can we interpret those mysterious hours in 2 FLOWEBS AND FBUIT. which the power of departed love seems to over- shadow us, making oar souls vital with such long>- ingSy with such wild throbbings, with such anat- terable sighings, that a little more might burst the mortal bond? Is it not deep calling onto deep? the free soul singing ontside the cage to her mate beating against the bars within? Sooi- The greatest moral effects are like those ^""^ "^ of music, — not wrought out by sharp- sided intellectual propositions, but melted in by a divine fusion, by words that have m3rsterious, indefinite fulness of meaning, made Hving by sweet voices, which seem to be the oulrthrob- bings of angelic hearts. So one verse in the Bible read by a mother in some hour of tender prayer has a significance deeper and higher than the most elaborate of sermons, the most acute of arguments. Bestaio- Scarcely conscious, she lay in that dim, ttob^ clairvoyant state, when the halfnsleep of ^^^^ the outward senses permits a delicious dewy clearness of the soul, that perfect ethereal rest and freshness of the faculties, com- parable only to what we imagine of the spiritual state, — season of celestial enchantment, in which the heavy weight '^ of all this unintelligible world " drops off, and the soul, divinely charmed, nestles like a wind-tossed bird in the protecting bosom of the Qne All-perfect, All-beautifuL What vi- sions thgn con^e to the inner eye have often no THE INKEB LIFE. 3 words corresponding in mortal vocabnlaries. The poet, the artist, and the prophet in such honrs hecome possessed of divine certainties which all their lives they straggle, with pencil or song or burning words, to make evident to their fellows. The world around wonders, but they are unsatisfied, because they have seen the glory and know how inadequate the copy. Oooragein Half the misery in the world comes of thetnith. - want of courage to speak and to hear the truth plainly and in a spirit of love. iQnPris- «Tho' I can't say I'm lone either, because nobody need say that, so long as there 's folks to be done for." Bieaaed- We could not afford to have it always happi- ' night, — and we must think that the "^ broad, gay moming-Kght, when meadow- lark and robin and bobolink are singing in chorus with a thousand insects and the waving of a thousand breezes, is on the whole the most in accordance with the average wants of those who have a material life to live and material work to do. But then we reverence that dear- obscure of midnight, when everything is still and dewy ; — then sing the nightingales, which can- not be heard by day ; then shine the mysterious stars. So when all earthly voices are hushed in the soul, all earthly lights darkened, music and color float in from a higher sphere. • • • By 4 FLOWERS AND FBUIT. what name shall we call this beaatif ul twilight, this night of the soul, so starry with heaveoily mysteries ? Nat happiness, bat blessedness. They who have it walk among men as '' sorrow- ful, yet alway rejoicing, as poor, yet making many rich, — as having nothing, and yet possess- ing all things/' LawsQf Is it not possible that He who made the world may have established laws for prayer as invariable as those for the sowing of seed and raising of grain ? Is it not as legiti- mate a subject of inquiry, when petitions are not answered, which of these laws has been neg- lected? inflnenoe No real artist or philosopher ever ^vuibie. ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^ some hours risen to the height of utter self-abnegation for the glory of the invisible. There have been painters who would have been crucified to demon- strate the action of a muscle, — chemists who would gladly have melted themselves and all humanity in their crucible, if so a new discovery might arise out of its fumes. Even persons of mere artistic sensibility are at times raised by music, painting, or poetry, to a momentary trance of self-oblivion, in which tiiey would offer their whole being before the shrine of an invisible^ loveliness. . . . But where theorists and feeit^niui philosophers tread with sublime assur- ance, woman often follows with bleed- THE INNER LIFE. 5 ing footsteps ; — women are always taming from the abstract to the individual, and feeling where the philosopher only thinks. Loveaaao- Trae lovo is a natural sacrament; and "°^**'** if ever a young man thanks God for having saved what is noble and manly in his soul, it is when he thinks of offering it to the woman he loves. / God*B « Mr. Scudder used to say that it took great affiction to bring his mind to that place/' said Mrs. Katy. ^' He used to say that an old paper-maker told him once, that paper that was shaken only one way in the making would tear across the other, and the best paper had to be shaken every way ; and so he said we could n't tell till we had been turned and shaken and tried every way, where we should tear.' » ^con- So we go, — so little knowing what we heart- touch and what touches us as we talk ! We drop out a common piece of news, — " Mr. So-and-so is dead," — " Miss Such-a-one is married," — '^ Such a ship has sailed," — and lo, on our right hand or our left, some heart has sunk under the news silently, — gone down in the great ocean of Fate, wiHiout even a bubble rising to tell its drowning pang. And this — Gk)d help us ! — is what we call living ! Repres- It was not pride, nor sternness, but a sort of habitual shamefacedness that 6 FLOWEBS AND FRUIT. kept far back in each soul those feelings which are the most beantifol in their outcome; bat after a while the habit became so fixed a nature that a caressing or affectionate expression conld not have passed the lips of one to another with- out a painful awkwardness. Love was under- stood, once for all, to be the basis on which their life was built. Once for all, they loved each other, and after that, the less said, the better. It had cost the woman's heart of Mrs. Marrin some pangs, in the earlier part of her wedlock, to accept of this once far aU in place of those daily outgushings which every woman desires should be like Grod's loving-kindnesses, ^* new every morn- ing ; " but hers, too, was a nature strongly inclin- ing inward, and, after a few tremulous move- ments, the needle of her soul settled, and her life-lot was accepted,— not as what she would like or could conceive, but as a reasonable and good one. Life was a picture painted in low, cool tones, but in perfect keeping; and though another and brighter style might have pleased better, she did not quarrel with this. Winged There are in this world two kinds of k^g^rite. i^a^ores, — those that have wings, and those that have feet, — the winged and the walking spirits. The walking are the logi- cians ; the winged are the instinctive and poetic. Natures that must always walk find many a bog, many a thicket, many a tangled brake, which Grod's happy little winged birds fiit over by one THE INNER LIFE. 7 noiseless flight Nay, when a man has toiled till his feet weigh too heavily with the mad of earth to enable him to walk another step, these little birds will often cleave the air in a right line towards the bosom of Grod, and show the way where he could never have found it. Unity in The truly good are of one language '"*^"' in prayer. Whatever lines or angles of thought may separate them in other hours, when they jpray in extremity y all good men pray alike. The Emperor Charles V. and Martin Luther, two great generals of opposite faiths, breathed out their dying struggles in the self-same words. Sympathy As well might those on the hither 1^^ side of mortality instruct the souls gone beyond the veil, as souls outside a great affliction guide those who are struggling in it. That is a mighty baptism, and only Christ can go down with us into those waters. Agony of Ag^st an uncertainty, who can brace SJg:. the soul? We put all our forces of faith and prayer against it, and it goes down just as a buoy sinks in the water, and the next moment it is up again. The soul fatigues itself with efforts which come and go in waves ; and when with laborious care it has adjusted all things in the light of hope, back flows the tide and sweeps all away. In such struggles life spends itself fast; an inward wound does not 8 FLOWERS AKD FBUIT. cany one deathward more surely than this worst wound of the souL Gk)d has made us so merci- fully that there is no certainty^ however dreadful, to which life-forces do not in time adjust them- selves; hut to uncertainty there is no possible adjustment* OandMe*B " 'Cause, as we 's got to live in dis yer t^ciogy. yj^Q^i^ i^ »g ^^ ^jlar de Lord must ha' fixed it so we ccm ; an' ef tings was as some folks suppose, why, we could n't live, and dar would n't be no sense in anyting dat goes on.'' ]>eathin So WO go, dear reader, — so long as ^ we have a body and a soul. For worlds must mingle, — the great and the little, the sol- emn and the trivial, wreathing in and out, like the grotesque carvings on a gothic shrine ; only, did we know it rightly, nothing is trivial, since the human soul, with its awful shadow, makes all things sacred. Have not ribbons, cast-off flowers, soiled bits of gauze, trivial, trashy frag- ments of millinery, sometimes had an awful meaning, a deadly power, when they belonged to one who should wear them no more, and whose beautiful form, frail and crushed as they, is a hidden and vanished thing for all time ? For so sacred and individual is a human being, that, of all the million-peopled earth, no one form ever restores another. The mould of each mortal type is broken at the grave ; and never, never, tiiough you look through all the faces on earth, THE IKNEB LIFE. 9 shall the exact form yon moam ever meet your eyes again I You are living your daily life among trifles that one deathnstroke may make relics. One false step, one luckless accident, an obstacle on the track of a train, the tangling of a cord in shifting a sail, and the penknife, the pen, the papers, the trivial articles of dress and clothing, which to-day you toss idly and jestingly from hand to hand, may become dread memorials of that awful tragedy whose deep abyss ever under- lies our common Hf e. Memory. For one flower hud on the shrine which we keep in our hearts for the dead is worth more than any gift to our living selves* Control **How could you help it, mignanne? £(^tB. Can you stop your thinking ? " Mary said, after a moment's blush, — - "I canary/" iQnor Behind every scale of music, the gay- tira^ est and cheeriest, the grandest, the most triumphant, lies its dark relative minor ; the notes are the same, but the change of a sem- itone changes all to gloom; — all our gayest hours are tunes, that have a modulation into these dreary keys ever possible ; at any moment the keynote may be struck. ihe ideal Nothing is more striking, in the light pnctioaL and shadow of the human drama, than 10 FLOWEBS AND FBUIT. to compare the inner life and thoughts of ele- vated and silent natures with the thoughts and plans which those hj whom they are surrounded have of and for them. little thought Mary of any of the speculations that busied the friendly head of Miss Frissy, or that lay in the provi- dent f orecastings of her prudent mother. Ftofeefe ^^ Indeed, I am afraid something must be wrong with me. I cannot have any fears, — - 1 never could ; I try sometimes, but the thought of Grod's goodness comes all around me, and I 'm so happy before I think of it" Under- All the little, mean work of our nature *^°"^ is generally done in a small dark closet just a little back of the subject we are talk- ing about, on which subject we suppose ourselves of course to be thinking ; — of course, we are thinking of it ; how else could we talk about it ? The divine As to every leaf and every flower '^^* there is an ideal to which the growth of the plant is constantly urging, so is there an ideal to every human being, — a perfect form in which it might appear, were every defect removed, and every characteristic excellence stimulated to the highest point. Once in an age, Grod sends to some of us a friend who loves in us, not a false imagining, an unreal character, but, looking through all the rubbish of our imperfections, loves in us the divine ideal of our nature,—- THE INNER LIFE. 11 lovesy not the man that we are, but the angel that we may be. BmpohI- To feel the immortality of a beloved ^^' soul hanging upon ob, to feel that its only oommonications with Heaven most be through OB, is the most solemn and touching thought that can pervade a mind. Derdop- What makes the love of a great mind apa" and '^ mamma," chattering and scolding, exhort- ing and coaxing. The little ones run £rom side to side, and say in plaintive squeaks, '' I can't," ** I dare n%" as plain as birds can say it. There, — now they spread their little wings; and oh, joy I they find to their delight that they do not fall ; they exult in the possession of a new-bom sense of exbtence. As we look at this pantomime, graver thoughts come over us. And we think how poor, timid, little souls moan, and hang back, and tremble, when the tune comes to leave this nest of earth, and trust themselves to the free air of the world they were made for. As the little bird's moans and cries end in delight and rapture in finding himself in a new, glorious, free life ; so, just beyond the dark steps of death, will come a buoyant, exulting sense of new existence. FEASL OS* OBB'S ISLAND. BifldpUne. The ship, built on one element, but designed to have its life in another, seemed an image of the soul, formed and fashioned with many a weary hammer-stroke in this life, but finding its true element only when it sails out into the ocean of eternity. Hdrnweii. But there are souls sent into this world who seem to have always mysterious affinities 20 FLOWERS AND FRUIT. for the inyisible and the nnknown -— who see the face of eveiythmg beautif al throagh a thin veil of mystery and sadness. The Grermans call this yearning of spirit ^' homesickness " — the dim remembrances of a spirit once afiQliated to some higher sphere, of whose lost brightness all things fair are the vague reminders* ijinitatiim. But Miss Emily knew no more of the deeper parts of her brother's nature than a little bird that dips its beak into the sunny waters of some spring knows of its depths of coldness and shadow. Learning The fact was, as the reader may per- ^ ^^' ceive, that Miss Roxy had been thawed into an unusual attachment for the little Mara, and this affection was beginning to spread a warming element through her whole being. It was as if a rough granite rock had suddenly awakened to a passionate consciousness of the beauty of some fluttering white anemone that nestled in its cleft, and felt warm thrills running through all its veins at every tender motion and shadow. Fitful Such people are not very wholesome ^*'"**°** companions for those who are sensitively organized and predisposed to self-sacrificing love. They keep the heart in a perpetual freeze and thaw, which, like the American northern climate, is so particularly fatal to plants of a delicate THE INKEB LIFE. 21 habit. Thej could live through the hot sninmer and the cold winter, but they cannot endure the three or foor months when it freezes one day and melts the next, — when all the bnds are started out by a week of genial sunshine, and then frozen for a fortnight. These fitful persons are of all others most engrossing, because you are always sure in their good moods that they are just going to be angels, — an expectation which no number of disappointments seems finally to do away. Lov«— ft Nothing so much shows what a human bemg IS 1 quality of his love. being is in moral advancement as the IiITTIiB FOXBS. Aitroktie The faults and mistakes of us poor ^"^ human beings are as often perpetuated by despair as by any other one thing. Have we not all been burdened by a consciousness of faults that we were slow to correct because we felt discouraged ? Have we not been sensible of a real help sometimes from the presence of a friend who thought well of us, believed in us, set our wisdom in the best light, and put our faults in the background? EznraBBioa '* Dispute your mother's hateful dogma, ^"^^ that love is to be taken for granted 22 FLOWERS AND FBUIT. without daily proof between lovers; cry down latent caloric in the market ; insist that the mere fact of being a wife is not enough, — that the words spoken once, years ago, are not enough, — - that love needs new leaves every sunmier of life, as much as your elm-tree, and new branches to grow broader and wider, and new flowers at the root to cover the ground." Latent I remember my school-day speculations over an old "Chemistry" I used to study as a text-book, which informed me that a substance called Caloric exbts in all bodies. In some it exists in a latent state ; it is there, but it alEects neither the senses nor the thermom- eter. Certain causes develop it, when it raises the mercury and warms the hands. I remem- ber the awe and wonder with which, even then, I reflected on the vast amount of blind, deaf, and dumb comfort which Nature had thus stowed away. How mysterious it seemed to me that poor families every winter should be shivering, freezing, and catching cold, when Nature had all this latent caloric locked up in her store-closet, — when it was all around them, in everything they touched and handled 1 In the spiritual world there is an exact analogy to this. There is a great life-giving, warming power called Love, which exists in human hearts, dumb and unseen, but which has no real life, no warming power, till set free by expression. Did you ever, in a raw, chilly day just before THE INNER LIFE. 23 a snowstorm, sit at work in a room that was jndicioosly warmed by an exact thermometer? You do not freeze, bnt you shiver ; your fingers do not become nnmb with cold, bnt you have all the while an nneasy craving for more positive warmth. Yon look at the empty grate, walk mechanically towards it, and, suddenly awaking, shiver to see that there is nothing there. Yon long for a shawl or a cloak ; yon draw yoorself within yourself; you consult the thermometer, and are vexed to find that there is nothing there to be complained of, — it is standing most pro- vokingly at the exact temperature that all the good books and good doctors pronounce to be the proper thing, — the golden mean of health ; and yet perversely you shiver, and feel as if the face of an open fire would be to you as the smile of an angeL Such a life-long chill, such an habitual shiver, is the lot of many natures, which are not warm, when all ordinary rules tell them they ought to be warm, — whose life is cold and barren and meagre, — which never see the blaze of an open fire. Regret The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone. " She never knew how I loved her." " He never knew what he was to me." '^ I always meant to make more of our friendship." " I never knew what he was to me till he was gone." Such words are the poisoned arrows which cruel Death 24 FLOWEBS AND FBUIT. shoots backward at us from the door of the sepulchre. How much more we might make of our family life, of our friendships, if every secret thought of love blossomed into a deed! We are not now speaking of personal caresses. These may or may not be the best language of affection. Many are endowed with a delicacy, a fastidiousness of physical organization, which shrinks away from too much of these, repelled and overpowered. But there are words and looks and little observ- ances, thoughtfulnesses, watchful little attentionsi which speak of love, which make it manifest, and there is scarce a family that might not be richer in heart-wealth for more of them. HOUSE AND HOME PAPEBS. ^nt In this art of home-makinir I have set STh^' down in mj mind certain first princi- ^* pies, like the axioms of Euclid, and the first is, — No home is possible without love. All business marriages and marriages of con- venience, all mere culinary marriages and mar- riages of mere animal passion, make the creation of a true home impossible in the outset. Love is the jewelled foundation of this New Jeru- salem descending from God out of heaven, and takes as many bright forms as the amethyst, topaz, and sapphire of that mysterious vision. THE INNEB UFE. 25 In this range of creative art all things are possi- ble to him that loveth, bat without love nothing is possible. THB CHIMNEY OOBNEB. OouTena- Heal conversation presupposes intimate acquaintance. People must see each other often enough to wear off the rough bark and outside rind of commonplaces and conven- tionalities in which their real ideas are en- wrappedy and give forth without reserve their innermost and best feelings. Saintu- What makes saintliness, in my view, as ''^"' distinguished from ordinary goodness, is a certain quality of magnanimity and greatness of soul that brings life within the circle of the heroic. To be really great in little things, to be truly noble and heroic in the insipid details of every-day life, is a virtue so rare as to be worthy of canonization. Teachings There is a certain amount of suffering proffer- ^y^jj muBt follow the rending of the great cords of life, suffering which is natural and inevitable : it cannot be argued down ; it cannot be stilled ; it can no more be soothed by any effort of faith and reason than the pain of a fractured limb, or the agony of fire on the living flesh. All that we can do is to brace 26 FLOWEBS AND FRUIT. ourselves to bear it, calling on God, as the mar- tyrs did in the fire, and resigning oorselYes to let it bom on. We most be willing to suffer, since Grod so wills. There are just so many waves to go over us, just so many arrows of stinging thought to be shot into our soul, just so many f aintings and sinkings and revivings only to suffer again, belonging to and inherent in our portion of sorrow ; and there is a work of healing that Grod has placed in the hands of Time alone. Time heals all things at last ; yet it depends much on us in our sufferings, wheUier Time shall send us forth healed, indeed, but maimed and crippled and callous, or whether, looking to the great Physician of sorrows, and coworking with him, we come forth stronger and fairer even for our wounds. Help In One soul redeemed will do more to lift Borrow. ^Y^Q Ijurden of sorrow than all the bland- ishments and diversions of art, all the alleviations of luxury, all the sympathy of friends. THE MATPLOWER. Afanitv of From that time a friendship commenced ^^ between the two which was a beautiful illustration of the affinities of opposites. It was like a friendship between morning and evening, — all freshness and sunshine on one side^ and all gentleness and peace on the other. THE INNER LIFE. 27 Superior- It is one mark of a superior mind to ^* understand and be influenced by the superiority of others. Bympoihy. The same quickness which makes a mind buoyant in gladness often makes it gentlest and most sympathetic in sorrow. Ood'0 It is well for man that there is one ^ympftthy. g^jj^g ^|jjj g^^g ^^ suffering heart as it is, and not as it manifests itself through the repellences of outward infirmity, and who, per- haps, feels more for the stem and wayward than for those whose gentler feelings win for them human sympathy. infloenoe. He had traced her, even as a hidden streamlet may be traced, by the freshness, the verdure of heart, which her deeds of kindness had left wherever she had passed. Capacity A very unnecessary and uncomfortable of eeiing. ^^^^^[^ oifedingy which, like a refined ear for music, is undesirable, because, in this world, one meets with discord ninety-nine times where one meets with harmony once. Heart- How very contrary is the obstinate esti- woridiy ' mate of the heart to the rational esti- ^"^^^"^ mate of worldly wisdom ! Are there not some who can remember when one word, one look, or even the withholding of a word, has 28 FLOWEBS AND FBUIT. drawn their heart more to a person than all the sabstantial favors in the world? By ordinary acceptation, sabstantial kindness respects the necessaries of animal existence, while those wants which are peculiar to mind, and will exist with it forever, by equally correct classification, are designated as sentimental ones, the supply of which, though it will excite more gratitude in fact, ought not to in theory. LiTing From that time I lived with her — and ^^ ^' there are some persons who can make the word live signify much more than it com- monly does — and she wrought on my character all those miracles wHch benevolent genius can work. She quieted my heart, directed my feel- ings, unfolded my mind, and educated me, not harshly or by force, but as the blessed sunshine educates the flower, into full and perfect life; and when all that was mortal of her died to this world, her words and deeds of unutterable love shed a twilight around her memory that will fade only in the brightness of heaven. MiniBter- What then ? May we look among the "**"^ band of ministering spirits for our own departed ones ? Whom woidd God be more likely to send us ? Have we in heaven a friend who knew us to the heart's core? a friend to whom we have unfolded our soul in its most secret recesses ? to whom we have confessed our weaknesses and deplored our griefs ? If we are THE INNER LIFE. 29 to have a ministeriog spirit, who better adapted ? Have we not memories which correspond to sach a belief ? When our soul has been cast down, has never an invisible voice whispered, ^* There is lifting np " ? Have not gales and breezes of sweet and healing thought been wafted over as, as if an angel had shaken from his wings the odors of paradise ? Many a one, we are confident, can remember sach things, — and whence come they ? Why do the children of the pious mother, whose grave has grown green and smooth with years, seem often to walk through perils and dangers fearful and imminent as the crossing of Mohammed's fiery gulf on the edge of a drawn sword, yet walk onhurt ? Ah I could we see that attendant form, that face where the angel con- ceals not the mother, our question would be answered. inflaenca Something there is in the voice of real mother'0 prayor that thrills a child's heart, even v*y^^* before he understands it; the holy tones are a kind of heavenly music, and far-off in distant years, the callous and worldly man often thrills to his heart's core, when some turn of life recalls to him his mother's prayer. PINK AND WHTTB TYRANNY. Tknghtby It Sometimes seems to take a stab, a ^' thrust, a wound, to open in some hearts 80 FLOWEBS AND FBIHT. « the capacity of deep feeling and deep thoaght. There are things taught hj suffering that can he taught in no other way. By suffering sometimes is wrought out in a person the power of loving and of appreciating We. During the first year, lillie had often seemed to herself in a sort of wild, chaotic state. The coming in of a strange, new, spiritual life was something so inexplicahle to her that it agitated and distressed her ; and sometimes, when she appeared more petulant and fretful than usual, it was only the stir and yihra- tion on her weak nerves of new feelings, which she wanted the power to express. These emo- tions at first were painful to her. She felt weak, miserable, and good-for-nothing. It seemed to her that her whole life had been a wretched cheat, and that she had ill repaid the devotion of her husband. At first these thoughts only made her bitter and angry ; and she contended against them. But, as she sank from day to day, and grew weaker and weaker, she grew more gentle ; and a better spirit seemed to enter into her. The object '' The great object of life is not happi- ^ "**' ness ; and when we have lost our own personal happiness, we have not lost all that life is worth living for. No, John, the very best of life often lies beyond that. When we have learned to let ourselves go, then we may find that there is a better, a nobler, and a truer life for us." . . . " If we contend with, and fly from our duties, simply because they gall us and bur- THE INNER LIFE. 81 den us, we go against everything ; but if we take them up bravely, then everything goes with us. Grod and good angels and good men and all good influences are workine with us when we are working for the right' And in Uus way, John, yon may come to happiness ; or, if yon do not come to personal happiness, yon may come to something higher and better. You know that yon think it nobler to be an honest man than a rich man ; and I am sure that you will think it better to be a good man than to be a happy one." Self. It is astonishing how blindly people ignoranoe. gQjjjg^jjijjgg go on as to the character of their own conduct, till suddenly, like a torch in a dark place, the light of another person's opinion is thrown in upon them, and they begin to judge themselves under the quickening influence of another person's moral magnetism. Then, in- deed, it often happens that the graves give up their dead, and that there is a sort of interior resurrection and judgment. Sympathy. When we are feeling with the nerves of some one else, we notice every roughness and in- convenience. oiainrqy- A terrible sort of clairvoyance that "*"** seems to beset very sincere people, and makes them sensitive to the presence of anything nnreal or untrue. 82 FLOWEBS AND FRUIT. TJnaoknow. No, she did not say it. It would be ^^ijg^s. '^^^ ^^^ us all if we did put into words, plain and explicit, many instinctive re- solves and purposes that arise in our hearts, and which, for want of being so expressed, influence us undetected and unchallenged. If we would say out boldly, '' I don't care for right or wrong, or good or evil, or anybody's rights or anybody's happiness, or the general good, or Grod himself, •— all I care for, or feel the least interest in, is to have a good time myself, and I mean to do it, come what may," — we should be only express- ing a feeling which often lies in the dark back- room of the human heart ; and saying it might alarm us from the drugged sleep of life. It might rouse us to shake off the slow, creeping paralysis of selfishness and sin before it is for- ever too late. Betty's BRiaHT idea. Aspiration. That noble discontent that rises to aspi- ration for higher things. DEACON Pitkin's fabm. Tbeieaaon ''Well, daughter," said the deacon, '' it 's a pity we should go through all we do in this world and not learn anything by it I hope the Lord has taught me not to worry, but THE INNEB LIFE. 88 just do my best, and leave myBelf and eTer3rthing else in his hands. We can't help ourselves, — we can't make one hair white or black. Why should we wear our lives out fretting ? If I 'd a known that years ago, it would a been better for usalL" «*Aiifor ''She's allers sayin' things is for the ****^**''*' best, maybe she 'U come to think so about this, — folks gen'ally does when they can't help themselves." Sympftthjr. Eyes that have never wept cannot com- prehend sorrow. Tnat "Leave it!" These were words often in that woman's mouth, and they expressed that habit of her life which made her victorious over all troubles, that habit of trust in the Infinite Will that actually could and did leave every accomplished event in his hand without murmur and without conflict. AGKES OF SOBBENTO. Power of Such is the wonderful power of human ^'''°^****^* sympathy that the discovery even of the existence of a soul capable of understanding our inner life often operates as a perfect charm ; every thought and feeling and aspiration carries with it a new value, from the interwoven con- 84 FLOWEBS AND FRUIT. sciousness that attends it, of the worth it would bear to that other mind ; so that, while that per- son lives, our existence is doubled in value, even though oceans divide us. DifflouMy But he soon discovered, what every S^^^n. earnest soul learns who has been bap- tized into a sense of things invisible, how utterly powerless and inert any mortal man is to inspire others with his own insights and convictions. With bitter discouragement and chagrin, he saw that the spiritual man must for- ever lift the dead weight of all the indolence and indifference and animal sensuality that surround him, — that the curse of Cassandra is upon him, forever to burn and writhe under awful visions of truths which no one around him will regard. Good As a bee can extract pure honey horn. we Mekit ^^^ blossoms of some plants whose leaves are poisonous, so some souls can nourish themselves only with the holier and more ethereal parts of popular belief. NaiveM. '^Blessed are the flowers of God that grow in cool solitudes, and have never been pro- faned by the hot sun and dust of this world.'' Borrow % Never does love strike so deep and im- ttonfor mediate a root as in a sorrowful and ^'^^ desolated nature; there it has nothing to dispute the soil, and soon fills it with its inter- lacing fibre. THE INNER UFE. 86 sa^ «He is happy, like the birds," said i>M^ Agnes, *^ because he flies near heaven." J>n»aM, Dreams are the hushing of the bodily senses, that the eyes of the spirit may open. Lort imio- When a man has once lost that ancon- ^^^^^ scions soul-parity which exists in a mind unscathed by the fires of passion, no afte^tears can weep it back again. No penance, no prayer, no anguish of retnorse, can give back the simplicity of a soul that has never been stained. Thestrooff- No passions are deeper in their hold, 2iJ5^ more pervading and more vital to the whole human being, than those that make their first entrance through the higher nature, and, beginning with a religions and poetic ideality, gradually work their way through the whole fabric of the human existence. From grosser passions, whose roots lie in the senses, there is always a refuge in man's loftier nature. He can cast them aside with contempt, and leave them as one whose lower story is flooded can remove to a higher loft, and live serenely with a purer air and wider prospect. But to love that is bom of ideality, of intellectual sympathy, of harmonies of the spiritual and immortal nature, of the very poetry and purity of the soul, if it be placed where reason and religion forbid its exer- cise and expression, what refuge but the grave, — 86 FLOWERS AND FBUIT. what hope but that wide eternity where all human barriers fall, all human relations end, and love ceases to be a crime. Agony in It is singular how the dumb, imprisoned ****^*^*** soul, locked within the walls of the body, sometimes gives such a piercing power to the tones of the voice during the access of a great agony. The effect is entirely involuntaiy and often against the most strenuous opposition of the will ; but one sometimes hears another read- ing or repeating words with an intense vitality, a living force, which tells of some inward anguish or conflict of which the language itself gives no expression. A ^mp- The great Hearer of Prayer regards *^* ° each heart in its own scope of vision, and helps not less the mistaken than the enlight- ened distress. And for that matter, who is enlightened? who carries to Grod's throne a trouble or a temptation in which there is not somewhere a misconception or a mistake ? Transient We hold it better to have even transient uplifting, upiif^gg Qf j^Q nobler and more devout element of man's nature than never to have any at all, and that he who goes on in worldly and sordid courses, without isver a spark of religious enthusiasm or a throb of aspiration, is less of a man than he who sometimes soars heavenwardi though his wings be weak and he fall again. THE IMNEB UFB. 87 Coind- When a man has a sensitiTe or sore spot in his heart, from the pain of which he would gladly flee to the ends of the earth, it is marvellous what coincidences of events will be found to press upon it wherever he may go. soenoecf They both sat awhile in that kind of gS "^ quietude which often falls between two who have stirred some deep fountain of emotion. innooenoe. There is Something pleading and pitiful in the simplicity of perfect ignorance, — a rare and delicate beauty in its freshness, like the morning-glory cup, which, once withered by the heat, no second morning can restore. World '< This is such a beautiful world," said Agnes, '' who would think it would be such a hard one to live in ? — such battles and conflicts as people have here ! " Nerrcnu As one looking through a prism sees a ^' fine bordering of rainbow on every ob- ject, so he beheld a glorified world. His former self seemed to him something forever past and gone. He looked at himself as at another per- son, who had sinned and suffered, and was now resting in beatified repose ; and he fondly thought all this was firm reality, and believed that he was now proof against all earthly impressions, 88 FLOWERS AND FBUIT. able to hear and to judge with the dispassionate cahnness of a disembodied spirit. He did not know that this highnstrong cahnness, this fine clearness, were only the most intense forms of nervous sensibility, and as vividly susceptible to every mortal impression as is the vitalized chem- ical plate to the least action of the sun's rays. UNCLB TOM's cabin. Borrow aa Any mind that is capable of a real sor* educator. . 1 1 i> i row IS capable of good. indiTid- Now, the reflections of two men, sitting side by side, are a curious thing,-— seated on the same seat, having the same eyes, ears, hands, and organs of all sorts, and having pass before their eyes the same objects, — it is wonderful what a variety we shall find in these same reflections. inipira. By what strange law of mind is it that ^°* an idea, long overlooked, and trodden under foot as a useless stone, suddenly sparkles out in new light, as a discovered diamond. Power of Sublime is the dominion of the mind mtajioyer ^^^j, ^^ body, that, for a time, can make flesh and nerve impregnable, and string the sinews like steel, so that the weak become so mighty. THE IKNEB LIFE. 89 Tnie he- Hato uot many of ns, in the weary way of life, felt, in some hours, how faor easier it were to die than to Hve ? The martyr, when faced even hy a death of bodily angaish and horror, finds in the yery ter- ror of his doom a strong stimulant and tonic. There is a yivid excitement, a thrill and fervor, which may carry through any crisis of suffering that is the birth-hour of etenial glory and rest. But to live, — to wear on, day after day, of mean, bitter, low, harassing servitude, every nerve dampened and depressed, every power of feeling gradually smothered, — this long and wasting heart martyrdom, this slow, daily bleed- ing away of the inward life, drop by drop, hour after hour, — this is the true searching test of what there may be in man or woman. Moral at- An atmosphere of sympathetic influence ^^^ encircles every human being; and the man or woman who feds strongly, healthily, and justly, on the great interests of humanity, is a constant benefactor to the human race. Seif-oacri- There are in this world blessed souls, whose sorrows all spring up into joys for others; whose earthly hopes, laid in the grave with many tears, are the seed from which spring healing flowers and balm for the desolate and the distressed. 8tr«ngthof When a heavy weight presses the soul ^^'''^' to the lowest level at which endurance 40 FLOWERS AND'FBUIT. is possible, there is an instant and desperate effort of every physical and moral nerve to throw off the weight ; and hence the heaviest anguish often precedes a return tide of joy and courage. Self-forget- " Thee uses thyself only to learn how to ^^ love thy neighbor, RuUi," said Simeon, looking with a beaming face on Ruth. Natural He had one of those natures which a^biWy. ^ould better and more clearly conceive of religious things from its own percep- tions and instincts than many a matter-of-fact and practical Christian. The ^t to app'teciate and the sense to feel the finer shades and relations of moral things often seems an attribute of those whose whole life shows a careless disregard of them. Hence, Moore, Byron, Groethe, often speak words more wisely descriptive of the true reli- gious sentiment, than another man whose whole life is governed by it. In such minds, disregard of religion is a more fearful treason, — a more deadly sin. Supersd- No one is so thoroughly superstitious as ^^^^' the godless man. The Christian is com- posed by the belief of a wise, all-ruling Father, whose presence fills the void unknown with light and order ; but to the man who has dethroned God, the spirit-land is, indeed, in the words of the Hebrew poet, " a land of darkness and the shadow of death," without any order, where the THE INN£B LIFE. 41 light is as darkness. Life and death to him are haunted grounds, filled with goblin forms of vague and shadowy dread. The human After all, let a man take what pains he "^ may to hush it down, a human soul is an awful ghostly, unquiet possession for a bad man to have. Who knows the metes and bounds of it ? Who knows all its awful perhapses, — those shudderings and tremblings which it can no more live down than it can outiive its own eternity ! What a fool is he who locks his door to keep out spirits, who has in his own bosom a spirit he dares not meet alone, — whose voice, smothered far down, and piled over with moun- tains of earthliness, is yet like the forewarning trumpet of doom ! DBED. pnctioai The divine part of man is often shame- "^ faced and self-distrustful, ill at home in this world, and standing in awe of nothing so much as what is called common sense ; and yet common sense very often, by its own keenness, is able to see that these unavailable currencies of another's mind are of more worth, if the world only knew it, than the ready coin of its own ; and so the practical and the ideal nature are drawn together. 42 FLOWEBS AND FRUIT. inezpiioa- Sensitive people never like the fatigue ^^ of justifying tiieir instincts. Nothhig, in fact, is less capable of being justified by technical reasons than those fine insights into character whereapon affection is built. We have all had experience of preferences which would not follow tiie most exactijr ascertained catalogue of virtues, and would be made captive where there was very littie to be said in justification of the captivity. Congenial- '^ Why, surely," said Anne, '^ one wants ^tM^^ one's friends to be congenial, I should think." " So we do ; and there is nothing in the world 80 congenial as differences. To be sure, the differences must be harmonious. In music, now, for instance, one does n't want a repetition of tiie same notes, but differing notes that chord. Nay, even discords are indispensable to complete har- mony. Now, Nina has just that difference from me which chords with me; and all our littie quarrels — for we have had a good many, and I dare say shall have more — are only a sort of chromatic passages, — discords of tiie seventh, leading into harmony. My life is inward, the- urizing, self-absorbed. I am hypochondriac, often morbid. The vivacity and acuteness of her outer life makes her just what I need. She wakens, she rouses, and keeps me in play ; and her quick instincts are often more than a match for my reason." THE INNER LIFE. 48 Proof of " How do yon know there is any heaven, anyhow ? ''Know it?" said Milly, her eyes kindling, and striking her staff on the ground, '' Know it ? I know it hy de hankering arter it I got in here;" giving her broad chest a blow which made it resound like a barrel. '*De Lord knowed what he was 'bout when he made us. When he made babies rootin' 'round, wid der poor little mouths open, he made milk, and de mammies for 'em too. Chile, we 's nothing but great babies, dat ain't got our eyes open, — rootin' 'round an' 'round ; but de Father 'U feed us yet — He will so. 99 Power Of As oil wiU find its way into crevices "^^' where water cannot penetrate, so song will find its way where speech can no longer enter. Night reao- What WO have thought and said under " °°^ the august presence of witnessing stars, or beneath the holy shadows of moonlight, seems with the dry, hot heat of next day's sun to take wings, and rise to heaven with the night's clear drops. If all the prayers and good resolutions which are laid down on sleeping pillows could be found there on awaking, the world would be better than it is. Traiuition There are times in life when the soul, periods. ^^^ ^ half-grown climbing vine, hangs 44 FLOWEBS AND FBUIT. hovering treznulonsly, stretcliing out its tendrils for something to ascend by. Sach are generally the great transition periods of life, when we are passing from the ideas and conditions of one stage of existence to those of another. Sach times are most favorable for the presentation of the higher truths of religion. Oooneotion This life may truly b^ called a haunted spirit house, built as it is on the very confines ^^ of the land of darkness and the shadow of death. A thousand living fibres connect us with the unknown and unseen state ; and the strongest hearts, which never stand still for any mortal terror, have sometimes hushed their very beating at a breath of a whisper from within the veil. Perhaps the most resolute unbeliever in spiritual things has hours of which he would be ashamed to tell, when he, too, yields to the powers of those awful affinities which bind us to that unknown realm. Bnffering It is the last triumph of affection and ^■*^°°^- magnanimity, when a loving heart can respect the suffering silence of its beloved, and allow that lonely liberty in which only some natures can find comfort. Joy in en- And, as he sang and prayed, that """^^ strange joy arose within him, which, like the sweetness of night flowers, is bom of darkness and tribulation. The soul has in it THE INKER LIFE. 45 somewhat of the divine, in that it can have joy in endorance beyond the joy of indolgence. They mistake who suppose that the highest happiness Hes in wishes accomplished — in pros- perity, wealth, favor, and success. There has been a joy in dongeons and on racks passing the joy of harvest. A joy strange and solemn, mysterioos even to its possessor. A white stone dropped from that signet ring, peace, which a dying Savionr took from his own bosom, and bequeathed to those who endure the cross, de- spising the shame. STTKNY MEMORIES OF FOREIGN LA2n)S. Inward How natural it is to say of some place ^^**^' sheltered, simple, cool, and retired, here one might find peace, as if peace came from without, and not from within. In the shadiest and stillest places may be the most turbulent hearts, and there are hearts which, through the busiest scenes, carry with them unchanging peace. Grace In I have read of Alpine flowers leaning ** ^*°* their cheeks on the snow. I wonder if any flowers grow near enough to that snow to touch it. I mean to go and see. So I went ; there, sure enough, my little fringed purple bell, to which I had give the name of " suspirium," was growing, not only close to the snow but in it. Thus God's grace, shining steadily on the 46 FLOWEBS AND FRUIT. waste places of the hnxnan heart, hrings up heav- enward sighings and aspirations, which pierce through the cold snows of affliction, and tell that there is yet life heneath. Ood a0 an I was glad to walk on alone : for the scenery was so wonderful that human sympathy and communion seemed to he out of the question. The effect of such scenery to our generally sleeping and drowsy souls, bound with a double chain of earthliness and sin, is like the electric touch of the angel on Peter, bound and sleeping. They make us realize that we were not only made to commune with Gk>d, but also what a God He is with whom we may commune. We talk of poetry, we talk of painting, we go to the ends of the earth to see the artists and great men of this world; but what a poet, what an artist, is God ! Truly said Michel Angelo, '* The true painting is only a copy of the divine perfec- tions — a shadow of his pencil." Soui-fltriy- The human soul seems to me an impris- ^' oned essence, striving after somewhat divine. There is strength in it, as of suffocated flame, finding vent now through poetry, now in painting, now in music, sculpture, or architecture ; various are the crevices and fissures, but the flame is one. Shadow. What a curious kind of thing shadow is, — that invisible veil, falling so evenly and so THE INNEB LIFE. 47 lightly over all things, bringing with it such thoughts of calmness and rest. I wonder the old Greeks did not build temples to Shadow, and call her the sister of Thought and Peace. The Hebrew writers speak of the '^ overshadowing of the Almighty ; " they call his protection '^ the shadow of a great rock in a weary land." Even as the shadow of Mont Blanc falls like a Sabbath across this valley, so falls the sense of his pres- ence across our weary life-road. Hefanweii. Why? why this veil of dim and inde- finable anguish at sight of whatever is most fair, at hearing whatever is most lovely? Is it the exiled spirit, yearning for its own? Is it the captive, to whom the ray of heaven's own glory comes through the crevice of his dungeon wall ? Seeing and It is not enough to open one's eyes on ^"^' scenes ; one must be able to be " en rapport" with them. Just so in the spiritual world, we sometimes see great truths, — see that Gfod is beautiful and surpassingly lovely ; but at other times we feel both nature and God, and O, how different seeing and feeling / POGAinJO PEOPLE. i««ying There are hard, sinful, Unlovely souls, the im- who yet long to be loved, who sigh in ^^^^" their dark prison for that tenderness, 48 FLOWERS AND FRUIT. that devotion, of which they are consciously unworthy. Love might redeem them ; hut who can love them ? There is a f ahle of a prince, doomed hy a cruel enchanter to wear a loath- some, hestial form, till some fair woman should redeem him hy the transforming kiss of love. The f ahle is a parahle of the experience of many a lost human souL . . . Who can read the awful mysteries of a single soul? We see human heings, hard, harsh, earthly, and apparently without an aspiration for any- thing high and holy ; hut let us never say that there is not far down in the depths of any soul a smothered aspiration, a dumh, repressed desire to he something higher and purer, to attain the perf ectness to which Grod calls it LITTLE PUSSY WILLOW. Seeing the " She shall he called little Pussy Willow, ^^^ and I shall give her the gift of always seeing the bright side of everything* That gift will he more to her than heauty or riches or honors. It is not so much matter what color one's eyes are as what one sees with them. There is a hright side to everything, if people only knew it, and the host eyes are those which arc always ahle to see this bright side." THE innb:b life. 49 A dog's mission. Beaction A conscientioiis person should beware nen. of getting into a passion, for every sharp word one speaks comes back and lodges like a sliver in one's own heart ; and such slivers hart us worse than they ever can any one else. Han's Ahy the child is father of the man! pattenoe. ' when he gets older he will have the great toys of which these are emblems ; he will believe in what he sees and toaches, — in house, land, i*ailroad stock, — he will believe in these earnestly and really, and in his eternal manhood nominally and partially. And when his father's messengers meet him, and face him about, and take him off his darling pursuits, and sweep his big ships into the fire, and crush his full-grown cars, then the grown man will com- plain and murmur, and wonder as the little man does now. Hie Father wants the future, the Child the present, all through life, till death makes the child a man. MY WIFE AND I. DiKipiine The moral discipline of bearing: with of nanAnea ^ ' evil patiently is a great deal better and more ennobJg than the m^t vigoroos assertion of one's personal rights. 60 FLOWERS AND FBUIT. Bnnobiiiig When we look at the apparent reckless- K^r* nesswithwhich great sorrows seem to be distributed among the children of the earth, there is no way to keep our faith in a Fatherly love, except to recognize how invariably the sorrows that spring from love are a means of enlarging and dignifying a hnman being. Noth- ing great or good comes without birlih-pangs, and in just the proportion that natures grow more noble their capacities of suffering increase. Line be- The line between right and wrong seems •DdwTo^ alivays so indefinite, like the line be- tween any two colors of the prism; it b hard to say just where one ends and another begins. Doabt '^ Doubt is very well as a sort of consti- tutional crisis in the beginning of one's life ; but if it runs on and gets to be chronic it breaks a f eUow up, and makes him moraUy gpindling and sickly. Men that do anything in the world must be men of strong convictions ; it won't do to go through life like a hen, craw-crawing and lifting up one foot, not knowing where to set it down next" Friends. " I don't think," said she, " you should say ^make* friends, — friends are discaveredy rather than made. There are people who are in their own nature friends, only they don't know each other ; but certain things, Hke poetry, music. THE INNER LIFE. 61 and painting, are like the free-masons' signs, — they reveal the initiated to each other." "WE AND DUB NEIOHBOBS. Forgive- "Yes," said Harry, '^forgiveness of friends. enemies used to be the ultima thtde of virtue ; but I rather think it will have to be forgiveness of friends. I call the man a perfect Christian that can always forgive his friends." Aitroion. Do not our failures and mistakes often come from discouragement? Does not every human being need a believing second self, whose support and approbation shall reinforce one's failing courage ? The saddest hours of life are when we doubt ourselves. To sensitive, excitable people, who expend nervous energy freely, must come many such low tides. "Am I really a miserable failure, — a poor, good-for-nothing, abortive attempt ? " In such crises we need another self to restore our equilibrium. Reproach. The agony of his self-reproach and despair had been doubled by the reproaches and expostulations of many of his own family friends, who poured upon bare nerves the nitric acid of reproach. Help from Something definite to do is, in some ^'^ crises, a far better medicine for a sick 62 FLOWERS AND FRUIT. soul than any amount of meditation and prayeir. One step fairly taken in a right direction goes farther than any amount of agonized back-looking. p»ai»«id Praise is sunshine ; it ^arms, it mspires, it promotes growth : blame and rebuke are rain and hail ; they beat down and bedraggle, even though they may at times be necessary. God work- The invisible Christ must be made ^i^hroug ^j^Q^,^ through human eyes; He must speak though a voice of earthly love, and a human hand inspired by his spirit must be reached forth to save. Inner life. The external life is positive, visible, definable ; easily made the subject of conversa- tion. The inner life is shy, retiring, most diffi- cult to be expressed in words, often inexplicable, even to the subject of it, yet no less a positive reality than the outward. BELIGI0C7S POEMS. Peace For not alone in those old Eastern re- throuffh saffermg. through . ring. gions Are Christ's beloved ones tried by cross and chain ; In many a house are his elect ones hidden. His martyrs suffering in their patient pain. The rack, the cross, life's weary wrench of woe. THE INNER LIFE. 68 The world sees not, as slow, from day to day, In calm, unspoken patience, sadly still. The loving spirit bleeds itself away ; But there are hours, when from the heavens un- folding Come down the angels with the glad release, And we look upward, to behold in glory Our suffering loved ones borne away to peace. The spirit As some rare perfume in a vase of clay ^^^^^ Pervades it with a fragrance not its own, So, when Thou dwellest in a mortal soul, All heaven's own sweetness seems around it thrown. The calm When winds are raging o'er the upper of God's _ love. ocean, And billows wild contend with angry roar, 'T is said, far down beneath the wild commotion, That peaceful stillness reig^eth evermore. Far, far beneath, the noise of tempest dieth, And silver waves chime ever peacefully ; And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er he flieth, Disturbs the Sabbath of that deeper sea. So to the soul that knows thy love, O Purest, There is a temple peaceful evermore ! And all the babble of life's angry voices Die in hushed stillness at its sacred door. ck>d'8com- Think not, when the wailing winds of lort. . autumn 54 FLOWEBS AND FBUIT. Drive the shivering leaflets from the trees, — Think not all is over : spring retnmeth ; Bads and leaves and blossoms thou shalt see. Think not, when thy heart is waste and dreary, When thy cherished hopes lie chill and sere, — - Think not aU is over : Grod still loveth ; He will wipe away thy every tear. CHAPTER n. HUMAN NATURE. THE minister's WOOIKG. Ignorant He was One of that class of people who, of a freezing day, will plant them- selves directly between you and the fire, and then stand and argue to prove that selfishness is the root of all moral evil. Simeon said he always had thought so; and his neighbors sometimes supposed that nobody could enjoy better experi- mental advantages for understanding the subject. He was one of those men who suppose themselves submissive to the divine will, to the uttermost extent demanded by the extreme theology of that day, simply because they have no nerves to feel, no imagination to conceive, what endless happiness or suficering is, and who deal therefore with the great question of the salvation or dam- nation of myriads as a problem of theological algebra, to be worked out by their inevitable X, y, z. 8eiiBitiT»- A generous, upright nature is always bbmie. more sensitive to blame than another, — sensitive in proportion to the amount of its reverence for good. 56 FLOWERS AND FBUTT. Depmesion It 18 a hard condition of our existence tation. tibat eveiy exaltation most have its de- pression. Grod will not let us have heaven here below, but only such glimpses and faint showings as pai*ents sometimes give to chil- dren, when they show them beforehand the jewelry and pictures and stores of rare and curious trea- sures which they hold for the possession of their riper years. So it very often happens that the man who has gone to bed an angel, feeling as if all sin were forever vanquished, and he himself immutably grounded in love, may wake the next morning with a sick-headache, and, i£ he be not careful, may scold about his breakfast like a mis- erable sinner. French True Frenchwoman as she was, always »^- in one rainbow shimmer of &ncy and feeling, like one of those cloud-spotted April days, which give you flowers and rain, sun and shadow, and snatches of bird-singing, all at once. Simple He is one of those great, honest fellows, wo^u^^'* without the smallest notion of the world '^^^ we live in, who think, in dealing with men, that you must go to work and prove the right or the wrong of a matter ; just as i£ any- body cared for that ! Supposing he is right, — which appears very probable to me, — what is he going to do about it ? No moral argument, since the world began, ever prevailed over tweuty- five per cent profit. HUMAN KATUBE. 57 Dniy tw. « Madam," said the doctor, '< I 'd sooner mcy, ' Tdy system should be sank in the sea than that it should be a millstone round my neck to keep me from my duty. Let God take care of my theology ; I must do my duty." Jovof There are some people so evidently "^* broadly and heartily of this world that their coming into a room always materializes the conversation. We wish to be understood that we mean no disparaging reflection on such per- sons ; they are as necessary to make up a world as cabbages to make up a garden ; the great, healthy principles of cheerfulness and animal life seem to exist in them in the gross ; they are wedges and ingots of soHd, contented vitality. A txyy's '' Oh, you go long, Massa Marvin ; *"* ' ye '11 live to count dat ar* boy for de staff o' yer old age yit, now I tell ye ; got de makin' o' ten or'nary men in him ; Utiles dat 's full aUers will bile over ; good yeast will blow at de cork, — lucky ef it don't bust de bottle. Tell ye, der 's angels hes der hooks in sich, an' when de Lord wants him, dey '11 haul him in safe an' sound." Wfl]^ « Law me ! what 's de use ? I 'se set out power. ^ b*liebe de Catechize, an' I 'se gwine to b'liebe it, so ! 99 The " But, Marie, how unjust is the world ! ixl^ce. how unjust both in praise and blame." 58 FLOWEBS AKD FBUIT. OLDTOWN FOLKS. Beifidi These dear, good souls who wear their ^^' life out for you, have they not a right to scold youy and dictate to you, and tie up your liberty, and make your life a burden to you ? If they have not, who has ? If you complain, you break their worthy old hearts. They insist on the privilege of seeking your happiness by thwarting yon in ever3rthing you want to do, and putting liieir will instead of yours in every step of your life. SzpreasiTe Aunt Lois, as I have often said before, was a good Christian, and held it her duty to govern her tongue. True, she said many sharp and bitter things ; but nobody but herself and her God knew how many more she would have said had she not reined herself up in con- scientious silence. But never was there a woman whose silence could express more contempt and displeasure than hers. You could feel it in the air about you, though she never said a word. You could feel it in the rustle of her dress, in the tap of her heels over the floor, in the occa- sional flash of her sharp black eye. She was like a thunder-cloud, whose quiet is portentous, and from which you every moment expect a flash or an explosion. HUMAN NATURE. 59 Pow«ro£ That kind of tone which sounds so atone. nmc^ ]^q 3, blow that one dodges one's head involantarily. Makiiurthe '^ There 's no use in such talk, Lois: ^*^ ® **• what *8 done 's done ; and if the Lord let it be done, we may. We can't always make people do as we would. There 's no use in being dragged through the world like a dog under a cart, hanging back and yelping. What we must do, we may as well do willingly, — as well walk as be dragged." inflnenoe It Is strange that no human being grows il^aadas. ^P "^^^ HOMB PAFBBS. Lore of a Milton says that the love of fame is the ^'**^ last infirmity of noble minds. I think he had not rightly considered the subject. I believe that last infirmity is the love of getting things cheap I Understand me, now. I don't mean the love of getting cheap things, by which one understands showy, trashy, ill-made, spurious articles, bearing certain apparent resemblances to better things. AU really sensible people are quite superior to that sort of cheapness. But those fortunate accidents which put within the power of a man things really good and valuable for half or a third of their value, what mortal virtue and resolution can withstand ? Warning Mothers who throw away the key of e^°^ ' their children's hearts in childhood sometimes have a sad retribution. As the children never were considered when they were little and helpless, so they do not consider when they are strong and powerfuL Oarefni ob- I think the best things on all subjects in ■®'^*^°'** this world of ours are said, not by the practical workers, but by the careful observers. 66 FLOWERS AND FBUIT. THB CHIMNEY COSNEB. LooUng Friend Theophilus was bom on the btoS'SSaMM. shady side of Nature, and endowed by his patron saint with every grace and gift which can make a human creature worthy and available, except the gift of seeing the bright side of things. His bead-roll of Christian vir- tues includes all the graces of the spirit except hope ; and so, if one wants to know exactly the flaw, the defect, the doubtful side, and to take into account aU the untoward possibilities of any person, place, or thing, he had best apply to friend Theophilus. He can tell you just where and how the best-laid scheme is likely to fail, just the screw that will fall loose in the smootiiest working machinery, just the flaw in the most perfect character, just the defect in the best written book, just the variety of thorn that must accompany each particular species of rose. Ch&teaux Rudolph is another of the hoMtu^s of pagM, our chimney corner, representing the order of young knighthood in America, and his dreams and fancies, if impracticable, are always of a kind to make every one think him a good fellow. He who has no romantic dreams at twenty-one will be a horribly dry peascod at fifty ; therefore it is that I gaze reverently at aU Rudolph's chS,teaux in Spain, which want nothing to complete them except solid earth to stand on. HUMAN NATTJBB. 67 Cam in- The fact is that care and labor are as SSS^ j? much correlated to hmnan existence as ^"^ shadow is to light; there is no such thing as excluding them from any mortal lot. You may make a canary-bird or a gold-fish live in absolute contentment without a care or labor, but a human being you cannot. Human beings are restless and active in their very nature, and will do something, and that something will prove a care, a labor, and a fatigue, arrange it how you will. As long as there is anything to be desired and not yet attained, so long its attainment will be attempted; so long as that attainment is doubtful or difficult, so long will there be care and anxiety. THB MAYFLOWER. ** Cute- He possessed a great share of that char- '^^^ acteristic national trait so happily de- nominated '* cuteness," which signifies an ability to do everjrthing without trying, to know every- thing without learning, and to make more use of one's ignora/nce than other people do of their knowledge. MaUng It sometimes goes a great way towards Sr^^ making people like us to take it for granted that they do already. A common She therefore repeated over exactly ^SSI^^K^. what she said before, only in a much 68 FLOWERS AND FBUIT. louder tone of- voice, and with much more vehe- ment forms of asseveration, — a mode of reason- ing which, if not entirely logical, has at least the sanction of very respectable authorities among the enlightened and learned* Danger in There is no point in the history of re- aSr' form, either in communities or individ- uals, so dangerous as that where danger seems entirely past. As long as a man thinks his health failing, he watches, he diets, and will undergo the most heroic self-denial ; but let him once set himself down as cured, and how readily does he fall back to one soft, indulgent habit after another, all tending to ruin everything that he has before done I Beif-decep. How Strange that a man may appear ^' doomed, given up, and lost, to the eye of every looker-on, before he begins to suspect himself I Oonrenient What would people do if the convenient '^""~* shelter of duty did not afford them a retreat in cases where they are disposed to change their minds ? Toomaoh A man can sometimes become an old bachelor b( as well as too little. bachelor because he has too much hearty Privileged These privileged truth-tellers are quite a tSien. necessary of life to young ladies in the HUMAN KATUBE. 69 fall tide of society, and we really think it would be worth while for every dozen of them to unite to keep a person of this kind on a salary for the benefit of the whole. TwoUndA There is one kind of frankness which is neas. * the result of perfect unsuspiciousness, and which requires a measure of igno- rance of the world and of life ; this kind appeals to our generosity and tenderness. There is an- other which is the frankness of a strong but pure mind, acquainted with Hfe, clear in its dis- crimination and upright in its intention, yet above disguise or concealment; this kind excites re- spect The first seems to proceed simply from impulse, the second from impulse and reflection united; the first proceeds, in a measure, from ignorance, the second from knowledge ; the first is bom from an undoubting confidence in others, the second from a virtuous and well-grounded reliance on one's self. TINK AND WHIT5 TYRANNY, Genial and There are people who, wherever they ^^!/ move, freeze the hearts of those they touch, and chill all demonstration of feeling; and there are warm natures, that unlock every fountain, and bid every feeling gush forth. 70 FLOWEKS AND FRUIT. Power of << Oh, nonsense ! now, John, don't talk hnmbug. I 'd like to see you following goodness when beauty is gone. I 've known lots of plain old maids that were perfect saints and angels ; yet men crowded and jostled by them to get at the pretty sinners. I dare say now/' she added, with a bewitching look over her shoulder at him, ^^ you 'd rather have me than Miss Almira Carraway, — had n't you, now ? " Growing *' The thing with yoa men," said Grace, "is that you want your wives to see with your eyes, all in a minute, what has got to come with years and intimacy, and the gradual growing closer and closer together. The hus- band and wife, of themselves, drop many friend- ships and associations that at first were mutually distasteful, simply because their tastes have grown insensibly to be the same." DEACON FITEJN'S FABH. A New Diana Pitkin was like some of the fruits womw. of her native hills, full of juices which tend to sweetness in maturity, but which, when not quite ripe, have a pretty decided dash of sharpness. There are grapes that require a frost to ripen them, and Diana was somewhat akin to these. HUMAN NATUBE. 71 AGNES OF SOBBBNTO. AooeptaUe Then he had given her advice which ^^ exactlj accorded with her own views; and such advice is always regarded as an emi- nent proof of sagacity in the giver. Dual But, reviewing his interior world, and '*****^ taking a survey of the work before him, he felt that sense of a divided personality which often becomes so vivid in the history of individ- uals of strong will and passion. It seemed to him that there were two men within him : the one turbulent, passionate, demented; the other vainly endeavoring, by authority, reason, and conscience, to bring the rebel to subjection. The discipline of conventual life, the extraordi- nary austerities to which he had condemned him- self, the monotonous solitude of his existence, all tended to exalt the vivacity of the nervous sys- tem, which in the Italian constitution is at all times disproportionately developed ; and when those weird harp-strings of the nerves are once thoroughly unstrung, the fury and tempest of the discord sometimes utterly bewilders the most practiced self-government. Power of " Son, it is ever so," replied the monk. ^hi^tor. ^' If there be a man that cares neither for duke nor emperor, but for Grod alone, then dukes and emperors will give more 72 FLOWERS AND FRUIT. for his good word than for a whole dozen of common priests." Beutionof ^^ We old folks are twisted and crahbed ^xOk, and fall of knots with disappointment and troable, like the mnlberry-trees that they keep for vines to ran x>n." UNCLE TOM's cabin. Pen!«- ^' Dis yer matter 'boat persistence, fel- ler-niggers," said Sam, with the air of one entering into an abstrase sabject, *'dis yer 'sistency 's a thing what ain't seed into very dar by most anybody. Now, yer see, when a feller stands up for a thing one day and night, de con- trar* de next, folks ses (an' natarally enoagh dey ses), Why, he ain't persistent' — hand me dat ar' bit o* corn-cake, Andy. But let 's look inter it. I hope the gent'lmen and de fair sex will sense my usin' an or'nary sort o' 'parison. Here ! I 'm a tryin* to get top o' der hay. Wal, I puts up my larder dis yer side ; 't ain't no go ; — den, 'cause I don't try dere no more, but puts my larder right de contrar' side, ain't I persistent? I'm persistent in wantin' to get up which ary side ray larder is ; don't ye see, all on ye ? " The negro The negro, it must be remembered, is iSuaxty, an exotic of the most gorgeous and superb countries of the world, and he HUMAN NATUBE. 78 has, deep in his heart, a passion for all that is splendid, rich, and fanciful; a passion which, rudely indulged by an untrained taste, draws on him the ridicule of the colder and more correct white race. Effect of The ear that has never heard anything *^ but abuse is strangely incredulous of anything so heavenly as kindness. ''Blessings Marie was one of those unfortunately vS^j uka" constituted mortals, in whose eyes what- £^M ever is lost and gone assumes a value which it never had in possession. Whatever she had she seemed to survey only to pick flaws in it ; but once fairly away, there was no end to her valuation of it. DRED. SpeaUng ** Now, Miss Nina, I want to speak as " No, you sha'n't ; it is just what people say when they are going to say something disagree^ able. I told Clayton, once for all, that I would n't have him speak as a friend to me.' » 'Bcoses. <